


Precious Metals

by nea_writes



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: ...is this such a rarepair that there's actually no fics for it?, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Magic-Users, Multi, the whole opposing kingdoms and torn loyalty thing is always fun, though it's not terribly prevalent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 17:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7693153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nea_writes/pseuds/nea_writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the crown prince of his home kingdom goes missing, bastard child Allen Walker is sent as a none-too-secret political hostage to the bloodthirsty Noah Clan in an effort to keep tensions low. Road eagerly claims Allen as her own personal toy, and when guard dog Howard Link is sent to protect (and retain) Allen, she doesn’t mind taking him, either. The more the merrier, no?<br/>Well, Road thinks so, even if Allen is terribly un-amused and Link horrifically embarrassed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Precious Metals

**Author's Note:**

> Written for liketolaugh-dgm over on tumblr (and liketolaugh here)! The entire premise was thought up on the spot by me and her after reading this nice little prompt: "You two are such trouble-makers and I am literally cleaning up after you 24/7 please be adults for like one second and no both of you simultaneously smothering me in neck kisses isn’t going to make me less mad….but carry on anyways AU" because who better than Allen, Link, and Road?

Allen scowled down at his knees, shifting to ease the pressure off his shoulders. He tried to roll them but the chains pulling at his hands were too short, and he sighed, closing his eyes. It would be a moot effort to even try to sleep, strained as his body was – not to mention the ravenous hole affectionately called his stomach – but he had to try. Who knew what they would do to him when they came back.

He wasn’t a fool. Allen knew the moment Head Councilman Leverrier had smiled down at him, inky and sly and dripping with insincerity, that he was just a political hostage being used to hide the absence of their real prince. Allen shifted uncomfortably. Their crown prince had gone curiously missing three weeks ago, and as the bastard child the kingdom was more than happy to truss Allen up in ribbons and silk to be presented to the Kingdom of Noah.

The Noah were a bloodthirsty lot who could barely be deigned to be called human. They plundered and pillaged and ransacked the lands outside their own, creating a disgusting contrast between their rich vibrant lands and the ones bordering them. They prospered off the blood of others, and it was almost certain that some kind of wicked dark magic was involved, because how else could they raid an entire kingdom overnight and leave it in ruins?

No. The Kingdom of Innocence most certainly did not need the Noah Clan finding out about their missing prince. It would brew nothing but trouble and war.

And so here Allen was, a beautiful tempting distraction, offered at the drop of a jewel and with nary a blink from anyone, except maybe the few true friends he’d made among the court. He closed his eyes against the thoughts of sweet Lenalee – weary and bone-tired in her fine silks and delicate filigree gloves – of her Councilman brother Komui, who tried so hard to prevent Allen’s current predicament, and of Lavi, the prestigious heir to the Bookman Clan, who had merely looked at Allen with knowing tired eyes. Even Kanda, their prized warrior and one of their feared Knights, he would miss.

However, thinking of them would bring nothing but weakness. Later, when they had beat him to his bones and left him raw and aching, he would think of them for strength. Breathing in deeply, he choked out the rank and muggy air of mildew and rotted flesh, of a human or animal he could not tell (but wouldn’t doubt that it’d be the former).

When the sharp clack of heels echoed to his cell, he straightened as best he could in his chains, wincing as his knee bit further into the stone. His cell was dark. The only source of light was flickering in a post on the opposite hall, casting disturbing shadows that distorted the lines of his cage. He watched the flickering moving lines on the floor, wondering how much more bearable the dungeon would be if he could not actually see its horrors. Probably much less.

The heels grew louder as they approached, and ended in a smart clack outside his cell. Allen dragged his gaze up, back straight and chin held proud, as he met the stare of the young princess.

He knew her. Most everyone did. Princess Road, one of the many undeclared heirs to the throne and infamous for her ceaseless slaughter and conquering. She was a feared magician, and whispers told that with just a glance she could twist your mind into a hell so personal even the devil would admire her with praise. The worst part was, she didn’t even look it.

Petite and small, her hair fluttered round her face like feathers of wings and dark as ink. Her eyes were a sharp calculating gold that felt cold as ice, and her smooth skin and dark features made pinpointing her actual age almost impossible. Whether she was thirteen or nineteen was anyone’s guess, and Allen thought she used that to her advantage.

“Well?” Road spoke, words clear and enunciated like crystallized water. It made Allen painfully aware of his dry throat. “This is the prince?” She asked, aghast and disgusted, and turning her head to the side. Allen blinked in realization that she was addressing someone.

“Yes, your highness,” a man replied sharply. Allen wondered if her servants were made to be as finely held and cut like herself. “Based off Lord Sheryl’s suspicions, he was held here.”

Allen started when Road snorted. He carefully contemplated that it was a rather unexpected reaction. “Father cares too much over things too simple. Isn’t it obvious?”

The man hesitated, and Allen could almost taste his fear. “…is what obvious, your highness?”

Road sniffed and turned away, dismissing the man immediately, and Allen could not help but to feel pity even as he stiffened under Road’s sharp gaze. “Nothing. Give me the keys.” Allen felt all his muscles lock up at that statement, and he warily watched as Road primly took the offered keys, unlocked his cell, and then clacked her sharp heels over to stand in front of him. He warily thought that she could very well put out his eye with one of those heels, and then looked away in shame when he realized how very bare her legs were. He forgot how… freely the Noah dressed.

She giggled. “Look at that. These Innocence are so ridiculous,” she snorted again, and then bent down, forcing his gaze to meet hers. He remained stubbornly silent, glaring back into her gold eyes. “My,” she murmured, and Allen flinched when her hand caressed his cheeks, sliding through his hair before trailing down his neck. Her fingers stopped to rest above the heart beat pounding furiously there. “What a pretty boy. No wonder they sold you.”

At the crass comment Allen jerked back, nearly smacking his head into the stonework behind him, and Road laughed. “Yes, pretty boy. Your family has sold you to us to keep us quiet about your missing prince.” Allen felt his jaw fall slack in shock, and Road raised a prim brow. “What? Did you all really think we didn’t know?” Allen snapped his mouth shut, glaring.

“Such expressive eyes…” Road said quietly, and then quick as lightning worked the key through the locks.

“Your highness!” the soldier cried from the entrance, shocked. “He is a prisoner!”

Road stood straight as the manacles fell from Allen’s wrist and ankles with a thunderous clang in the prevailing silence, leaving the one round his neck intact. “Are you presuming to say what I can and cannot do?”

The man gasped in horror – at his presumptive behavior or at the promised danger lurking in Road’s voice, Allen didn’t know, but he was sure he nearly snapped his spine in half with how quickly he bowed. “N-no, your highness! Forgive me for my audacity!”

“Hmm,” Road mused aloud, tapping a lacquered nail against her chin in thought. She turned her bright gaze onto Allen as he finally stood next to her, quietly observing. With her hand she trailed it up his chest, nail clicking over every button lining his shirt up until his collar, and then twisted her fingers around the chain attached to the metal binding his throat, his breath hitching. With a harsh yank she pulled Allen after him, and he yelped as the iron bit into his throat. He stumbled after her, bending forward as she refused to grip the extra length of chain any lower and instead had her hand wrapped severely around the base of the links. “Okay. I will.” The guard sagged in relief, but stiffened at her next words. “But only if you take his place.”

The soldier looked up, pale, but Road only grinned cruelly at him, eyes glittering. “So? Either be chained or die by the gallows, which would you prefer? Or,” she breathed, eyes glowing, “would you rather I punish you… specially?”

Allen knew by the way the man choked and begged for the chains that Road was only too eager to twist his mind into hell. The man nearly fell in his rush to stand by the chains, and Road trailed her hand down the length of metal attached to Allen as she walked back towards the binding metal. With an almost surreal gentle touch, Road clasped each manacle around his wrists and ankles, entrapping the man in the same positon Allen had been. Allen looked down in shame even as his belly flared in satisfaction. The guard had not been nice to him, but he still shouldn’t have felt so pleased at seeing their roles reversed.

Road stepped back with a satisfied clack, admired her work, and then tugged on Allen’s chain to follow her from the cage, twirling the keys on its metal ring round her finger. Without even a comforting word or promise, Road left, yanking Allen behind her as she continued up the stairs. They had dragged him down three levels below ground, so when he staggered onto the ground level once more, he squinted at the sudden bright light. Road giggled.

“Is it too much? Ah, wait,” she pulled hard enough on his leash to choke him again, and Allen eagerly bent to accommodate the demand. He swallowed dryly as he leveled his eyes with hers, the golden color so much brighter and more innocent looking in the light of the sun versus the darkness of the dungeon. He was so close he could even see the very faint trail of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and the brown flecks in her iris. He shifted uncomfortably as Road only continued to look into his eyes, then, without warning, unlocked the remaining manacle around his neck. It dropped with an echoing clang onto the floor by his feet, and Allen blinked in shock. Without the chain holding him down he bent straight and rubbed at his abused throat, frowning in confusion down at Road. She winked.

“A nosy dog has come to find you, so we can’t hide you down there anymore. Come now, let’s go meet him.” She turned on his heel, and it rankled at Allen’s pride that he had no choice but to follow her silent command and trail after her. Scowling, he followed.

Their castle was huge and echoing, and ironically unlike theirs in all the ways that mattered. Where theirs was dark and morbid, here was light and airy. Their castle had gothic sharp designs, and the Noah castle was filled with gentle swoops and curves. It was highly disturbing to see the sharp contrast. _Well,_ Allen mused, _at least their dungeons match their reputations._

Road led him down several halls and through multiple high-reaching arches and vaulted ceilings before they entered a room small enough to maybe be generously considered a lounge. It was in the scheme of all the other halls and rooms in the castle: light and pastel and gold-trimmed. It unnerved Allen.

“Here, have a seat. You,” she snapped her fingers at one of the maids waiting, and the woman rushed forward hastily. “Bring us drinks. Some of… hm, some of what Tyki was having earlier.” The maid hesitated before nodding sharply and leaving. Allen sat as the woman left, sinking into the soft cushions and almost groaning in pleasure at the comfy touch. When he opened his eyes, he flushed slightly under Road’s watchful gaze. “You look awful,” Road remarked as she sat far too close by him, and Allen scowled.

He wanted to say _I didn’t really have a choice in getting beaten up by your repressed and angry guards,_ but he was still holding onto his rebellious vow of silence, and so he merely glared down at his knees. Road giggled. He gave a pointed look at the non-existent space between their thighs – and the almost obscene amount of flesh Road’s skirt exposed - and Road raised a jaunty brow, as if to say, _and your point is?_

When he remained quiet, instead she asked, “Are you nervous? Maybe it’s a friend!”

Allen frowned in thought. No. They wouldn’t send _him_ a friend. It wouldn’t be Lavi, Lenalee, God forbid Kanda, nor Krory or even Miranda. There was no one they could (or would) possibly send that he would consider his friend. And to be pitifully honest, Allen did not have a high threshold on what he considered to be pleasant company. Frankly, anyone outside of a towering hidden room enclosed by nothing but stone was considered a good friend.

Road was watching him carefully, it seemed, because then she said, “No? Well, no matter. You’ll become friends, since both of you will be staying in my suites.”

Allen looked up in sharp horror at this, but before he could be tempted to break his silence the door opened and a servant stepped in. “Your highness, your guest has arrived.”

Road waved. “Lead him in, then.”

The servant bowed at the waist, then stepped further back, pushing the door open wider. Allen felt his heart leap into his chest.

A blond man dressed sharply in the clothes of his kingdom stepped in, brows arched in thought and rusty red eyes edged like broken crystal. Allen shivered when the man’s gaze fell on him, as though he were trying to peel back every layer that made Allen up and peer within. It didn’t help that he was obviously fit and around Allen’s age, with blond braided hair to absolutely die for.

“Oh!” Road exclaimed happily, “Another a hot one! That’s good.”

Allen didn’t have the heart to ask what, exactly, it was good for.


End file.
